Somewhere Inside
by Art-Over-Matter
Summary: Ruvik escapes into the world in Leslie's body...but is Leslie truly gone?
1. Part I: Leslie

**Part I: Leslie**

Bright. Bright light, almost searing.

Rolling over, covering his eyes with his arms. A metallic creak from below.

The air around feels cool, but not cold. Fresh. The light slowly becomes more bearable. Leslie uncovers his eyes slowly and rolls over again. Walls across from him; greenish-blue patched with white where paint had chipped off or disintegrated.

He sits up. He's on a bed with a thin, grimy mattress. The frame creaks when he moves.

How did he get here? Why?

The floor his feet find when he stands is tile. White but cracked. Plants push through. Dirt. A small barred window just above his eye level lets in sunlight. Pure, like mid-afternoon. Greenery outside too, small plants, like the window is just above ground. Vines creep in and dangle onto the floor.

It smells like a field.

 _Sunflowers. Hay and smoke and fire and_ pain. _Red cloth. Setting sun and pain._

Leslie holds his head with both hands, whimpering slightly until the images and sensations fade. They were so vivid. Memories, but he knows he's never seen or felt that.

He doesn't remember much before here. He doesn't try. He wants to go home, without really knowing what home is.

The doorway to the room is open, since the barred door lies flat on the ground. Leslie stumbles out. The room outside is similar. Tile and earth and flakes of paint. Darker. No windows, only sunlight patterns leaking from other rooms—cells.

He just starts walking. Is there a right and wrong direction?

Quiet.

Faint rustling, wind, maybe.

Faint chirping, birds.

In between, silence.

 _Silence. The basement. Dark and cold. Alone, so alone. Waiting. The voices, the visions. She wasn't dead._

Leslie stumbles into a wall and stops with his hand against it. As quickly and powerfully as the memories come, they fade. Once they're gone, he can't quite reach them anymore.

He keeps moving. A girl's laughter, distant.

Doesn't look back.

xxx

A tub of water. The hard floor against his knees.

Leslie comes to in front of a bathtub full of water. He's kneeling, leaned over it as if he'd been looking for something.

His right hand is wet.

Though the water is fairly clear, there's dirt settled at the bottom, making a dark backdrop so he can see his reflection.

The girl is giggling behind him.

He turns.

 _Red and black._

But there's nothing.

He stands and shuffles out of the room. His head hurts again. Why is he here? Why is he alone?

Then, glass shatters.

Leslie starts. Somewhere above him? He stops and listens. Silence.

But this hadn't been like the girl laughing. It was a permeable sound. It was real.

He finds stairs, eventually. Darker, colder, grayer. Not the calm peace of the overgrown rooms.

Then upstairs. Sunlight floods. The ceiling has holes in some places, and the second floor is visible. It barely has a ceiling left at all.

Footsteps. He hears the quiet crunching of the debris underfoot. Coming closer…. Should he be scared? Should he keep going toward the sound, or should he hide?

He stays in his place.

"Help…help…" he mutters, somewhat involuntarily. "Remember…remember…"

"Leslie?"

A quiet call, a woman's voice. It's familiar. He can't quite place it with his vague remains of a memory, but it's someone he knows.

"Leslie, where are you?"

He starts to shuffle toward her—she must be in one of the rooms connected to this hallway—but then stops. He doesn't have a good association with this woman.

Chasing. Gunpoint.

 _"_ _Don't kid yourself. You're just as expendable as they are."_

xxx

Leslie's sitting on his heels. A different room, again.

Cold on his cheeks. Tears?

Someone suffers behind him. He turns.

A woman lies on the floor, moaning and crying with pain. She curls into herself, and blood pools.

Kidman, he knows, remembers.

Leslie doesn't like Kidman. Leslie doesn't trust Kidman.

It seems wrong that she's here and all the blood, but he doesn't know what to do. He shuffles past her and out the door. He's scared. He doesn't know what's happening.

More noises. Footsteps.

He starts down the hall, but he catches sight of a figure to his right and he ducks into a closet. The door is slotted. He can look out and see the room across, where Kidman lies in her own blood.

Someone passes by the door and sees her.

Familiar, again. A man.

"Oh, fuck, Kidman. What the hell happened?" A deep voice. Steady. This is a better association.

He kneels beside Kidman. She moans and chokes, "Se—Sebastian. Why-?"

"Shh. Stay with me. But don't try to talk. Shit." Searching his pockets, then hers. He finds some small object Leslie can't see.

Leslie sits. Dark, only slits of light. Should he stay here? He likes Sebastian. Sebastian is good. But…blacking out again. Whatever happened to Kidman….

Sebastian has a one-sided conversation. Then he stops.

"Hey, you still with me?" he asks her.

She nods stiffly.

"Ambulance will be here in a few minutes. It'll take them a little while, but they'll make it." He shrugs out of his long coat. Wads it up and tucks it behind her head.

"Sebastian…"

"Relax—"

"No. He—he's still here…"

"Ruvik?"

She nods.

"I know." He's unbuttoning the black vest he wears.

"Why—?"

"Same reason you are." He takes something silver off his belt.

"No, why—why are you helping me?" She's gasping. Her words are the passing of air between convulsions of pain. "I—I killed Joseph, you…you threatened to shoot me—"

"Quit. Breathe. You have to breathe."

Leslie can smell the blood from across the hall. Rich, metallic, sharp.

 _Experiments. Touch of sedative. Glint of a blade. Flesh cleanly ripping open, peeling away. Then it's him. There's pain._ _ **So much pain**_ _._

The pain in his head never fully goes away. It washes back, an ocean wave, but never leaves. The memories, though. They get more vivid, more than sensations: experiences.

"This is gonna hurt," Sebastian is saying.

Leslie looks back out the slits in the door.

Sebastian pours something out of the silver container onto Kidman. She tightens. Her fists clench. But she's silent. Sebastian takes the black cloth of his vest and presses it to the wound in her shoulder. He does the same process for her other wound, spreading the vest across her chest to reach both.

"Sebastian," she says breathlessly, "you have to find him. He—he's only going to escape if you stay here."

"I know. I'll get there."

Leslie starts to slip.

 _"_ _Don't do it, Ruben, just walk away. I know what you want to do. Please, don't."_

Soft, pleading. Matches the laugh. He just knows, somehow, it's the same girl.

xxx

Leslie opens his eyes to the end of a gun. He starts slightly.

"Sebastian?" He thought he trusted Sebastian.

Sebastian keeps the pistol steady but there's hesitation, mistrust in his eyes.

"Don't fall for it," Kidman says from the floor. "I think he's faking it—it's what he did with me."

"I'm not so sure."

"You don't have a choice, Sebastian! You…" She stops to regain what little breath she has. "You have no idea what he could do if he gets out of here."

Leslie rocks back and forth slightly and starts muttering, "Conscience… conscience…conscience." The word is stuck in his mind as if he's just said it or heard it.

"I won't just let him leave," Sebastian says. "We'll take him to an asylum. Not Beacon; somewhere better."

"They'll never understand his case, Sebastian. He could take advantage of them so easily. If you can't do it, give me the gun and I will. He—he's right; I would."

"Leslie?" Sebastian says, lowering the gun slightly and reaching out with his other hand to put it on Leslie's shoulder. "Is that you?"

Leslie looks up at him and asks, "Sebastian? Can Leslie go home?"

The muscles around Sebastian's eyes tightened. Conflict inside him.

Then, "I can't." He lowers the gun to his side.

"Don't make this mistake—"

"Kidman, no. I've made up my mind."

Struggling up, rising. He's slipping.

Sebastian turns away slightly and Kidman sweeps the gun off the floor next to her. She raises it at Leslie

"No—"

and fires.


	2. Part II: Ruvik

**A/N: I am very ashamed. This story is over a year old and I forgot to post the second part. Oh my god. Anyway, sorry. Here it is I guess.  
**

 _Get out, you scum. You're dead now._

Ruvik straightens and looks around. He remembers coming to the old asylum, but he sneers now at his distasteful choice. He's had enough of places like this. Yet he knows no one will think to look here, so it's safe for now.

Struggles inside of him.

How strong must this kid really be? It's not too hard to keep him down, but he won't go away.

Ruvik runs his hand along the wall and as he walks. Coarse and flaking, even damp in some places. It's a delicious feeling. So vivid. So _there._

It makes him feel powerful in a way even STEM couldn't.

 _You thought you'd get the last word, Jimenez. You fool. You traitor, you bastard. Even you and your whole organization couldn't confine me._

He smiles.

A room to his right holds a bathtub full of water. Ruvik steps up to it and looks inside. He can see his reflection. So young. White hair, gaunt face. Colorless kind of eyes, maybe slightly blue.

It doesn't matter. His skin is so perfect, so untouched. It has no memory of the pain.

He lowers himself to his knees and reaches toward the tub. He sets his hand just on the surface and can feel the cool liquid grab at his skin. Sensations, sensations. His hand is steady. No nerve damage.

In his delight, he's gotten distracted.

 _No, you're dead. Stay dead._

Leslie is weakest in the temporal region; Ruvik knows that. Hearing, understanding, _remembering._ Easy to trick. For the most part it's not something he can use against the boy, but he can shove memories at him.

And oh, he has a whole stash of vivid experiences to put him in his place.

XXX

 _Kidman._ It's Ruvik's first thought upon surfacing again. He takes a moment to reorient himself—he doesn't know exactly what goes on when Leslie is in control, but he can call up recent thoughts.

The woman rounds the corner into the hall and sees him. Yes, Juli Kidman. The Mobius agent.

"K—kid…kid…" Ruvik mutters, a perfect imitation of Leslie. He doesn't really look at her, his eyes instead darting between random things on the floor.

"Hey, Leslie, it's me," she says in a falsely calming voice. She has a gun in her right hand. She looks hesitant, confused.

 _She didn't know Leslie was still alive._

"Come on," she says, stepping forward and taking his hand. "Let's—let's go somewhere else."

He follows, maintaining his act.

Struggles. Wants to run away.

 _You're dead._

She leads him to a room with only one entrance. Ah. So he can't run.

"Leslie, just stay here, okay? Hold still." She lets go of him once they're deep in the room.

As Ruvik keeps his eyes to the floor, he sees a broken mirror among the neglected debris.

Kidman steps away and lifts the gun. "I'm sorry, Leslie," she whispers.

Ruvik dives.

A shot fires, but she never expected him to move so fast. He sweeps a large shard of glass from the floor and lunges at her.

The shard sinks into her side and she lets out a cry as she's knocked to the floor. Ruvik snatches the gun from her and stands up, leering over her. She's gasping and clutching at the glass sunk deep between her ribs.

Ruvik is oh, so familiar with the human anatomy. The brain had always been his fascination, but he'd sliced apart many bodies and opened many ribcages. He knows how they work and he knows how to get through them.

"It's tempting to kill you now," he says. He's not accustomed to using Leslie's voice. So high. There's a lower range he finds as he keeps speaking, but it's nowhere near what his had been. "But I'd rather you die slowly. It's fascinating when people discover their own body parts by feeling each one die."

She looks up at him with rage but also terror. She seems like a fighter, so he cocks the gun and fires through her shoulder for good measure.

He drops the gun next to her as she screams.

"No one will stop me," he sneers, speaking more for the sake of it than so she could hear. "Least of all, you."

 _"_ _Ruben, what have you become?"_

 _No. No._

He turns. Across the room, there she is. As young and beautiful as the day it happened. She looks just slightly translucent and her feet make no sound when she steps forward.

 _"_ _What are you doing, my beloved brother?"_ She looks sad but not horrified. Her silent lips seem synced with the voice in his head.

It's like the visions. The visions that started in his father's basement. He knows it's not real but somehow it _is._

"N—no, Laura, you don't understand." He wants to back up but he also wants be near her again.

She shakes her head. _"You're right, I don't understand. I don't think I'll ever understand this."_ She looks to the suffering woman behind him.

"Laura, please forgive me," he says, dropping to his knees in front of her. "This—it had to be done, I—" He stops when he realizes she's gone. He feels like crying but he's also angry. Why will her image never leave him?

He feels himself falling under. This time, he lets it happen.

XXX

Ruvik stands inside the tiny closet. He feels hints of both rage and satisfaction. Rage, _rage_ at the detective he could see just across the hall. The one who nearly ruined everything. Oh, that detective had fought valiantly. In spite of the horrors Ruvik had done his best to craft, in spite of the things he'd forced him to witness, in spite of the massive thorn of barbed wire stuck through his chest at the very end, Sebastian Castellanos had very nearly brought him down.

Yet now he's here, and in just a white shirt and tie, he hardly seems threatening at all. And Ruvik has the chance to kill him. _That_ is satisfaction.

 _"_ _Ruben, don't kill anyone else. Please."_

His expression falls and he turns slowly. Almost guilt.

Laura shakes her head.

 _I love you, Laura._ He doesn't speak aloud because he knows they'd hear him across the hall. _But you can't control me._

He turns away from her. He feels _something_ in his chest but very specifically blocks his sister from his mind.

The detectives are both turned away. They have no idea he's here. He opens the door silently and bends down to pick up a large chunk of concrete from the floor. He steps slowly, and his bare feet make no noise. He's almost close enough now to Sebastian and he draws his arm back.

The detective turns sharply.

 _Click._

A gun leveled at Ruvik's face.

"There are things you have to take into account when you don't control everything around you," Sebastian says calmly. "Shadows, for example."

Ruvik sneers. His hand lowers halfway. "You won't kill me."

"Oh, I think I will."

He shakes his head. "No. You and your _conscience_. You can't shoot me _pointé à blanc._ " He looks over at Kidman, where she glowers furiously at him but can't do much more. "She could. But she's not exactly in the best condition, is she?"

"Sebastian, just kill him. Please. I know you don't like it, but we can't let him get away again." She struggles to sit up, but only grimaces and lies back again.

Ruvik looks Sebastian steadily, penetratingly in the eyes. "He's still in here, you know. Leslie." He taps his temple. "Thanks to you, maybe. He still surfaces from time to time."

"Bullshit."

"You want to see?"

He closes his eyes and recedes.

XXX

The shot smacks into the wall behind him as he dives out of the way. He gets to his feet again and starts to run. He knows the detective will pursue him.

Ruvik knows this body won't be able to run faster than Sebastian can. But that's alright. He doesn't want to run away, not yet.

He ducks around a corner and stops, concrete in hand. How exhilarating it is to run and feel the air pass through his lungs and his feet hit the ground.

As soon as Sebastian appears around the corner, Ruvik swings hard. The chunk of concrete collides with his temple and the detective crumples. He's only out for a few seconds before stirring, groaning. Blood starts to seep from the side of his head.

Ruvik pulls the knife out of the detective's belt. He kneels and presses it to Sebastian's throat. "You caused a lot of trouble for me, _Seb._ But in the end you're just too…good." His lip curls in distaste. "I'll show you what happens to good men."

Sirens. Flashing lights, somewhere. Sounds of men rushing, near.

 _No. Not now._

It's just enough of a distraction for Sebastian to shove Ruvik and the knife away from him. With a snarl, Ruvik rebounds, but only manages to stab him in the leg as he moves.

 _"_ _Ruben, leave now. It's not worth getting caught. Please, don't kill him…."_

He stops before reaching for the knife again to make another attempt. Cursing, Sebastian pushes himself away and starts to work on standing up.

"Why?" Ruvik asks, turning to his sister. He feels frustrated but also wretched. "Why are you my conscience?"

Her blue-gray eyes are sad. _"I think I was always your conscience. More than you realized."_

He shakes his head and turns back to the detective, backing away from him. She's right. It's not worth getting caught—he won't be stopped now.

Sebastian is fumbling for his gun, but it's not a threat any longer. Ruvik gives him a sour kind of smile and then turns and runs. He can't let Sebastian stand in his way again.

No one. No one will stand in his way again.


End file.
